


Love is Blue

by kavekavekav



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mid-Game, One-Sided Attraction, POV Alternating, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2020-12-28 10:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21135203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kavekavekav/pseuds/kavekavekav
Summary: One love, stretched in time and twice unrequited and another, happening exactly at the right time and in the right place, not quite as easy as one could hope.In brief: a short story about love, both lost and found.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from Paul Mauriat’s song. 
> 
> The Watcher: Sol, Oracle (Cipher/Druid - Beguiler/Fury), Moon Godlike, Drifter

Tekēhu lied in the dark, with his eyes wide open. Through the thin material of his tent, he watched the faint outlines of tree branches and leaves as they danced in the wind.

In the stillness of the night, he tried to recall what had awoken him, until he heard the voice again - soft, murmured words in a language unfamiliar and strange.

Leaning on his forearms he turned to look at his captain. With rapid attention he observed as Sol’s lips moved, forming the vowels and closed on a hum.

He was distracted enough not to notice another pair of eyes in the darkness, observing him in turn.

“You will get used to it,” Aloth whispered, startling him. His voice was purposeful - barely louder than a whisper, but also sharp and displeased, though not openly hostile. “It doesn’t happen as often as it used to.”

Tekēhu smiled despite himself. Yes, he was well aware of the animosity the wizard felt towards him. The closer he became with the captain, the more hostile Aloth’s behavior seemed to be. It made Tekēhu wonder just what kind of a relationship Aloth used to have with the Watcher.

If anything, they seemed close, closer than with any of their other friends, in exception of Edér perhaps, but when Tekēhu asked if Sol was interested in anyone the captain had denied it.

“What language does he use? What does it mean? It cannot be complete gibberish, I say.”

“You’ll have to ask him in the morning, if you are really interested,” Aloth mumbled, sounding defensive all of a sudden.

_He never told you?_ Tekēhu considered asking, but he promised the Watcher not to provoke his friend, so instead, he said, “I am. Really interested.”

He could almost see the scowl that twisted Aloth features but he didn’t rise to the bait. Tekēhu heard him shuffle in his mattress before settling back down, unconsciously lying closer to the Watcher.

“Goodnight,” Aloth said, curtly, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“Goodnight,” Tekēhu replied with a grin. He felt rested enough and for a moment he considered leaving their shared tent to take a soak in the nearby stream when the Watcher’s body twisted and his hand fell on Tekēhu’s scaled arm, fingers curling and uncurling, reminding Tekēhu of Gosha - the tricolor cat favored by the Watcher.

Sol’s hair was loose and from this close Tekēhu could smell the distinctive aroma of khapa leaves and murkberries.

It reminded him of the beginning of their mating, back in Neketaka, when he cornered Sol in his room before they departed - he was eating berries and his lips were stained pink, fruit juice making his blue skin violet.

“Tell me, is the Watcher... watching anyone?” He asked, sitting in front of his captain with a winsome smile. At the time - he had to admit - nothing intrigued him more than the famous Watcher, but he had not hoped for much - anything, really - except for what Sol would be willing to give.

Watcher looked surprised for a moment as if Tekēhu’s interest in him was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

“There was... someone,” he said, eyes clouding as they always did when he was remembering something unpleasant. “But it was a long time ago.”

“So, no one caught your interest at present?” Tekēhu pressed, finding it hard to look away from Sol’s warm smile, his pink-dyed lips.

“Not yet, no.”

And Tekēhu wondered then, when it was nothing but a passing fancy, just like he had many times through the weeks with attention growing beyond simple interest - what would it take to keep the Watcher close. For a night, for two, for longer than he had ever kept anyone.

His captain was a soft kind of person, even if his demeanor was far from calm, he was above all incredibly collected in his self-created chaos. But there was steel in his eyes and power in his voice, a sureness in his movement that brought Tekēhu to him as if he was but a moth, drawn to a flame.

And without even noticing, Tekēhu found himself hopelessly captivated and thoroughly caught. Even now, with Sol sleeping mere inches from him, he couldn’t help but give him his undivided attention.

Moments like those caused him to doubt. For some reason, being this close to each other, it seemed as if they had never been more distant.

He didn’t know when his eyes closed but he could not will himself to stay awake any longer. And so he fell asleep, inches away from the Watcher, only to wake up alone, in an empty tent, with the scent of tea leaves and fruit lingering on the neatly folded sheets.

XXX

Watcher sat up on his bedroll, brushing the hair out of his face with trembling fingers. His eyes burned, no matter how long he slept, he was barely there, movements slow and delayed.

Each time, seconds before opening his eyes he almost expected to see the all-consuming violet light and hear a voice, familiar and cold.

He sighed, feeling his heart rattle through his chest. He could recall, not long ago, when that sound was absent. When his body was nothing but a shapeless cloud, made of the same luminescent light that enveloped almost everything in sight. Even the darkness seemed too vivid, like a sky on a moonless night.

He was pulled out of his memories by a sound, a voice to be exact. Nothing more than a soft exhale, but it shattered his thoughts and he startled, coming back to reality.

Next to him, with his head on both pillows slept Aloth. Watcher huffed a quiet laugh, seeing the state of his fiend’s hair - disheveled and mussed, splayed on the mattress, one of his beads missing.

Watcher’s sudden movement must have roused Aloth and he curled into himself, calling Sol’s name, ready to wake.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” Watcher knew he could easily reach into his friend’s mind and ease him into his dreamless sleep once again, but Aloth listened, sighing softly and stilling, eyes closed.

The smile froze on Sol’s face and he swallowed, watching Aloth’s chest rise and fall with every deep breath.

There was a time when he found Aloth’s company comforting. Their easy friendship that brought them together through countless sleepless nights they shared by the campfire and once, five years ago, he thought there might be something more between them than the simple camaraderie.

They both changed in some aspects and even though Aloth company felt as familiar as ever, Sol distanced himself, without even knowing why. He still could read Aloth as if he were a book, one he knew by heart once but forgot through the years. And it hurt, the knowledge that in decades, he would no longer remember even the most important parts.

But there was also comfort in that thought, Sol mussed, looking up. The tent was sturdy, recently bought. He had enough copper now, to replace every item that needed mending.

Another thing that changed about him. One of many that made his friends look at him with curiosity. And that horrible kind of pity, when he wandered through the camp, restless.

And there were things that didn’t change, at last, even if the circumstances did. He was no longer hunting a man, who was a danger to his sanity, but a god, one who had ripped his soul apart and took a half of it with him.

He almost said no, when the Pallid Knight asked. The refusal sweet on the tip of his tongue. One word would have changed everything. And this time around he had a choice.

Say no, and disappear, go back into the light, the nothingness, then again, follow the light, open your eyes. Say no, and you will forget, the hurt you caused, the hurt that was caused to you in turn.

And maybe if his soul was whole, he would do it. But something called out to him, whether a trick of Berath or something real, something more important.

And through the haze, he remembered Iovara, always thoughtful, always defiant, to the end, and longer still. Waiting. And Vela, with her childish joy, her little hands holding his shawl and his own words, ‘You are safe now’, but was she?

The face of Berath’s aspect impassive and beautiful in her cruelty and he knew, that if he asked, he would not be given an answer.

So, next thing, he remembered his face. He whispered ‘yes’, in a weak and stilled voice, and his hands were no longer blurred out and violet but blue, with silver markings twirling and twisting uprights all the way to his neck and higher, disappearing under his hair, winding around his ears and ending near the tip, where an earring should have been but-

No. That was the Inquisitor. He-- Oh. Oh no.

And it was too late to take his worlds back, as he was ushered out of the room, memories returning slowly, and he heard sounds now, ones that he did not notice before. A beat. Slow, but steady. Thumping. Almost rhythmical. Louder, with each step he took.

The wooden planks rearranged themselves underneath his feet and he no longer watched them move, he just followed the path, let himself be led.

“... up.”

And the other sound. A voice. Murmuring, words slurred and quiet.

“... -ke up.”

Watcher moved faster, the wood making no noise when he stepped on it with vehemence.

“Please-”

There, in front of his eyes, not far... A shack? No.

“...wake u-”

A room. Small but not cramped. A shelf-

“Please, wake-”

-a bed. A body, he stopped in his track with one foot hovering over the threshold.

“Please, wake up.”

Edér?

Watcher came closer, with his hand outstretched, hovering over his friend.

Edér looked devastated, mumbling over and over, head bowed low, hands clasped around a trinket, small and unassuming.

A ring, unsightly and poorly made, dark copper with tool-marks and impurities etched around the band. A work of an amateur jeweler, holding a surprising amount of power.

There was once a pair, used to transfer vital energy between its wearers. Edér brought two rings with him from a journey, a gift for a job well done. And he offered both of them to his friend but kept the copper one when he had learned their value.

The second one - Sol looked down at his hands, his fingers bare, save for the signet ring that marked him as the owner of Caed Nua, an once great keep, that no longer existed - the silver band, slightly better looking than the copper one, but not by much, it once had a place on his forefinger.

Five years ago he took it off and put it in a jewelry box, one that was surely destroyed by now. Along with the whole chamber.

With a heavy sigh, the Watcher put his hand on his grieving fiend’s shoulder, only to watch it pass through his body.

He took his hand away, looking at it, then back at Edér. He should have known, he was nothing more than a soul now.

Next to the bed, on the shelf someone placed the head of his Steward. He saw her crumbled, destroyed and broken, right before the void had claimed him.

She didn’t seem to notice him, at least that’s what Watcher thought, seeing as she did not address him when he entered the room.

He tried again and moved his hand but it passed through the stone like a mist. Huffing, the Watcher moved towards the bed where his body lied in a soundless slumber.

At first he did not recognize himself. Memories of each and every time he saw his own reflection rushed back to him and he had to close his eyes against the sudden assault.

When he opened them again, he saw himself, he remembered his body. His pale eyelashes and the moon on his forehead, upside-down and glowing.

His hand shook when he raised it and laid it on his chest. There was a flash before his mortal eyes opened and he sat up.

Around him, the room swayed and he was ready to write it off as nausea before he heard the unmistakable sound of waves and he had only a second to think ‘oh, no’, before Edér’s head turned towards him and he gaped, the copper ring falling to the ground with a loud twang.

As if on command, Sol heard Edér’s voice. He halfheartedly argued with someone about cooking breakfast and the familiarity of the situation caused Watcher’s lips to stretch into a smile.

Some things never changed, no matter how many years have passed. Like Edér’s inability to cook anything that didn’t involve venison and Pallegina’s temper, when faced with a cheerful kith first thing in the morning.

And Aloth’s sleeping habits. For someone so proper he woke up awfully late.

Watcher sat back, ready to rouse his sleeping friend before his hand moved over someone’s arm and shivered, taking his hand back sharply.

Tekēhu huffed but continued sleeping and the Watcher exhaled, looking down. When his erratic heartbeat slowed down, he frowned with displeasure. For a moment, he had forgotten where he was.

Aloth face twisted into a grimace, seemingly feeling the Watcher’s irritation, trying to match his mood. Something he still did, after five years of absence.

He looked at the Watcher, when he thought nobody could see, with a familiar soft expression on his face that quickly morphed into a look of hurt, before disappearing entirely, hidden behind a carefully blank expression. One that stopped fooling anyone after he had bared himself open, one night on the bridge leading out of the Defiance Bay.

Sol knew that his silence pained Aloth. Even so, he couldn’t help but still his tongue and say, ‘I am fine,’ when he was visibly shaking from another dream-like memory. ‘Everything is alright,’ he had assured, even if nothing really was and he had scars all over his body that accounted for that.

‘Why do you even care?’ He was tempted to ask, the first time Aloth didn’t seem to believe in his reassurances anymore. ‘It’s been years, what did you expect?’ He wanted to say when Aloth’s face contorted into a look of pure hurt at being brushed off again. ‘It’s not like I left you. It’s not like I went away and left you all alone. And now you act as if we have never parted. What do you want?’

But he never said anything, keeping their conversations easy and uncomplicated. He didn’t ask, what was Aloth doing, those five years when Sol thought they would never see each other again. When he waited for a letter, that would not arrive, until he didn’t anymore.

Sol knew, painfully well, how easy it was to forget him.

But they met again, by chance or design, he could not say and he thought that seeing his friends again would make him happy but it didn’t. He felt nothing short of relief at seeing them alive. And Aloth - if there was anything between them, Sol could liken it to a memory of a faded scent, barely there, if at all.

Maybe the time they spent together mattered little to Aloth and Sol fooled himself into thinking that somebody could care for him beyond what he had to offer and he should just take what was given to him, for as long it would last until it too, was taken away.

Perhaps he was misunderstood, when he said, ‘I want you beside me as an equal.’ He should have known, he could never be anything more than a title, a figurehead, a stranger.

So when Tekēhu found him one night, almost half a year ago, looking at him as if he was the most puzzling sight on the whole island, he stared right back. When the shark flirted, he responded in tune, easy, always easy.

It was effortless: taking Tekēhu’s hand when he was distressed - like he once used to do for Aloth - letting him cling back, entwining their fingers together. Sitting close with their knees touching, Tekēhu’s skin moist and warm under Sol’s hand. Talking, all night, until the sun was up again and they laughed, forgetting about their companions sleeping nearby.

Now, looking at him sleep, Sol wondered how quickly would his interest wan once he took whatever it was that he needed, be it reassurance, a favor or a gift. He was a fool a few times, but he had no expectations left to shatter and he would not mourn the loss, no matter how abrupt.

On his right, Aloth sighed deeply and mumbled something in his sleep - a tell-tale of his, indicating that he was having a nightmare.

With a small grimace, Sol knelt down, next to his friend, putting his hand on Aloth’s arm and shaking him gently.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Aloth, it’s just a dream.”

Aloth’s hand moved to his, seeking contact and Sol allowed him to hold it, until his eyes opened and he stared, wide-eyed.

“Sol?”

“Are you alright?”

Aloth smiled, tightening his hold for a moment before letting go. “Yes. Thank you for waking me.”

“No problem,” Sol smiled back, keeping his hands occupied with folding his sheets, “I heard Edér was going to start making breakfast soon.”

Aloth scowled half-halfheartedly and they both laughed, quiet and with a subtle unease, an awkwardness that wasn’t there before.

“Last meal on the island then, before we take off,” Sol hummed, following Aloth out and immediately scrunching his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“All the more reasons to go now, before Edér really takes it upon himself to start cooking.”

The sky was cloudless and Sol turned his head up, deep in thought. And to think he used to despise the rain, now he would do anything to escape the heat.

Next to him Aloth paused, close by. Half-formed words stilled in his throat when he watched Sol’s eyes close against the sun rays. He swallowed thickly, looking away, hands clasped tightly behind his back.


	2. Chapter 2

The dawning sun brightened the foredeck, painting the hull with pink and gold, making the enchanted lanterns shine and sparkle brightly. They swayed gently, left and right, where they were hanged on the masts, all around the deck.

The light blinded Tekēhu for a second and he had to squint his eyes to continue watching. But it wasn’t the colorful sunrise that held his gaze, nor the tiny rainbows reflected on the glass surface. There was a coin in the Watcher’s hand, a scelling, not bigger than a knuckle.

Tekēhu stared attentively as Sol’s nimble fingers played absentmindedly with the gold piece, rolling it between his fingers, making it disappear between the folds of his dress shirt.

Try as he might - and in fact, the shark did not try very much at all - Tekēhu couldn’t help but imagine these hands moving over his body with the same striking agility but with a wholly different purpose. He wondered, how would Sol’s fingers feel if he were to trail them slowly over Tekēhu’s chest, the sharp edges of his collarbones. If he’d let his hand rest there, feeling the rapid beat of his hear or if he’d close it around Tekēhu’s neck, gently, then not so much.

It was something out of ordinary, Tekēhu had to admit, that lasting fascination he felt each time he thought of his captain. Though as of late, he was stuck daydreaming about much more than his wiry body, under and above him.

This time as well, his mind supplied him with different images, ones that made Tekēhu’s heart skip a couple of beats then change the rhythm of his pulse to the point of almost-pain.

Sol’s hands cupping his face as he leaned for a kiss, nothing more than a brief touch, their fingers interlaced. Falling asleep together and waking up in each other arms with the sun on their faces and--

Tekēhu gaped. Their eyes met when the Watcher’s head lifted and he smiled, noticing Tekēhu’s attention on him, always on him.

"Parlor trick," he murmured, obvious, misunderstanding the shark’s interest completely.

With both of his hands empty, he pushed off the railing and came closer. One of his hands came up to Tekēhu's head and he brushed the side of his face, lightly, a barely-there sensation, before his fingers buried themselves in Tekēhu's tentacles.

Tekēhu leaned forward just as the Watcher took his hand away, presenting the newly appeared coin. "There," Sol murmured, placing it on Tekēhu's hand. “I am getting lousy.”

It was a small gold plate but it shone brightly against Tekēhu’s pale scales and it was still warm from the Watcher's touch. It was enough to distract Tekēhu from his thoughts, if only for a moment.

With a smile that appeared more weary form this close, the Watcher turned away and moved towards his quarters and Tekēhu was left there, simply staring at the Watcher’s back, the thin material of his shirt and pale markings visible on his skin underneath, until he disappeared around the corridor.

Tekēhu looked at the coin once again, slowly moving it around his fingers, a heartfelt mockery of the Watcher’s earlier trick.

His heart thumped wildly in his chest and he could almost hear it, like a thunder, in the silence. The floor shifted under his feet and his hand reached out to steady himself, but no, it was not the waves.

Tekēhu stroked the coin with his fingertips before sighing wistfully and sliding it inside his pocket - for safekeeping, before following in Watcher’s footsteps, down the stairs.

XXX

When they finally arrived in Neketaka the sky was thickly clouded. Tekēhu stood on the main deck, waiting for the ship to dock.

In the meantime, he watched his city, one he thought he knew through and thorough. It pained him, how greatly he was mistaken. It took the Watcher to lead him to the places he never ventured into, holding his hand the whole way.

The small scelling weighed on him. He was immensely familiar with the coin by now, the rough edges and smooth sides, the engravings on the flat surfaces. He would have recognized it among hundreds of others.

The Watcher passed him by as soon as the ship swayed closer to the border and called out to the crew. “We’ll stay here for a day or two. At any rate, the moment we dock you’re all free for the day.” Sol smiled, waiting until the cheer quieted down. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves their options wide open,” Aloth smiled, coming to a halt next to the Watcher. “You’re aware of that, aren’t you?”

“Their options?” Sol responded with a sharp laugh. “You are all free to spend your day in _any_ way you want. And most of the night as well,” he added, winking at Serafen. “As long as I don’t have to save your asses later.”

“Right kind of you, cap,” the orlan’s teeth gleamed in a sharp smile. “Should we get going now, ‘fore you be changing your mind?”

“By your leave,” Sol jested along, propping one arm on the rail. He seemed at ease, nodding to his crewmen as they moved along.

Tekēhu watched the exchange with a pleased smile. It wasn’t often that he had the chance to see his captain relaxed and happy.

While the rest of the crew scrambled around, ready to head out to the nearest inn, both Aloth and Tekēhu were yet to leave Sol’s side.

“Say,” Tekēhu begun, stealing the Watcher’s attention with a shiver of pleasure. “Would you mind terribly if I accompanied you today?”

Sol raised a brow in question, but his lips stretched into a small smile. “Wouldn’t you rather occupy your time with something more... pleasant?”

“But captain, the chance of spending a day in your company is all the pleasure I require,” Tekēhu beamed, half honest, half trying to make Sol laugh, mouth hidden behind his palm.

“Well, in that case, how could I refuse?” Sol allowed, expression open and soft. He turned away, only to stop in his track. “Aloth? Is there anything you need?”

Aloth chanced a glance at Tekēhu, before quickly focusing on the Watcher. His collected expression seemed almost forced. “I recall you planned to visit the Map Emporium. I was wondering if it would be alright if I came along?”

“Yes, of course.” After the soft reassurance, Sol jumped down onto the pier, the heels of his boots rattling loudly over the wooden planks. “The more, the merrier.”

The docks of Queen’s Berth, as usual, were full of life, rich with the scent of ale and booming with the sound of endless chatter.

The Watcher seemed at ease there, guiding them along the cobbled streets as if he knew them by heart, as if he too, had just returned home. It delighted Tekēhu and he was glad to be back, to wander the streets with his captain by his side.

Wanting to be closer, Tehehu matched his peace with Sol’s, content to follow in silence, letting their hands brush against each other as they walked.

Aloth followed soon after, choosing to walk on the opposite side of the Watcher, clenching his snakeskin grimoire tighter, sliding his fingers over the smooth ridges of the thick cover.

“I wanted to thank you again,” he begun when Sol turned to look at him. “For the grimoire.”

“And I already told you, it was nothing.” Well, the tome could be considered rather pricey but it was not by any means the fanciest gift Sol had ever brought for a friend. ”Besides, it’d be a shame to leave it with Sanza. It’s might pretty.”

Aloth laughed. “And very useful. Though, it is just like you to choose a book by its cover.” It was a jest, nothing more, but as soon as the word had left his mouth, the atmosphere grew tense and Aloth swallowed nervously, averting his gaze.

Tekēhu, standing nearest to the Watcher noticed the way Sol’s smile froze and without a moment of thought, he grabbed Sol’s hand. “Captain,” he said, pointing to a vailian woman and her large, bright hat with a blue feather tucked behind a silky ribbon. “What say you? I know a merchant who sells similar hats, with colorful feathers and strings of pearls. You would look gorgeous in one of those, I say.”

Sol clutched the offered hand for a second before releasing it. He watched the woman as she passed them by, head held high, feathers fluttering on the wind. “You think so? Maybe I should give it a try, then. Not too ostentatious, I hope?”

“Not at all, Captain,” Tekēhu said, lips curved upwards. “You look dazzling in about anything.” For all his pride and ostensible self-confidence, Tekēhu compliments were always sweetly genuine.

Sol had the slight advantage which not all of the kith possessed, of being a moon godlike himself, and in spite of his more humanoid appearance, he was an object of scorn and disgust thorough his childhood. Even though just as many kiths desired him for the same exact reason and he had his share of lovers, deep down, he had never grew used to being an object of somebody’s desire outside of the bedroom. And because of that, from all the flirtatious remarks and innuendos, nothing brought a blush to his cheeks except those innocent comments.

“Oh, really?”

“Ekera, just so.” Tekēhu held Sol’s gaze for a long time before a polite cough made them look away from each other.

Aloth cleared his throat, scrutinizing his shoes with great interest. The door to Sanza’s shop was just a few steps further down the road and Aloth stood there awkwardly waiting for them to join.

“Are you looking for something specific?” Sol asked, hurrying to push the door open.

The lack of windows made the air inside the small room smell strongly of frowst and Aloth nose scrunched in displeasure.

“Merely some healing scrolls,” he mumbled while the Watcher looked at the office, where Sanza slept with his head rested on a thick stack of maps piled high around his table. “I saw some the last time we visited. And we could always use more of those.”

“Is it really necessary,” Tekēhu huffed more than a bit put out. “I can keep the captain safe.” As confirmation of his words, with a quick, lazy wave of his palm, a miniature shark appeared from thin air. It wiggled a bit then swam around the Watcher a couple of times before boobing his nose. Sol laughed with delight while the fish disintegrated back into a small breeze splattering him with droplets of water.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” Aloth’s mumbled, though his scowl cleared out as he glanced at Sol. “I just think--”

Their conversation at last startled Sanza, and the cartographer snored, waking himself up with a start. “Solange!” he called, wiping the spit off the corner of his mouth. “Welcome back! It’s good to see you, yes, very good. How is the expedition?” He slurred, voice heavy with sleep.

“Pretty much finished. All I found sailing to the west of Razai Passage were ancient famphyrs, bog witches and Flame Naga, not really a dream vacation spot, but the islands are safe now. Well, safer. I suppose.”

With a clumsy grace, Sanza grabbed the notes as soon as Sol took them out of his bag, and the scent of salt and sulfur permeated the shop. The cartographer didn’t seem to mind it at all as he riffled through the thin journal with a beatific smile stretching his face. “Splendid, splendid! And those sketches too, oh, I thank you so much!”

With a little shrug, Sol brushed a strand of his hair behind one ear. “It’s nothing really, I was there anyway.”

Tekēhu’s eyes widened at the same time Aloth’s did. They glanced at each other sideways with startled expression marring their faces.

Easy? That wasn’t a word Tekēhu would choose. With dread, he recalled the ceiling-high stacks of bodies, the overpowering odor of rot. Sol’s injury when he jumped in front of the party, in naught but his thin shirt that quickly became dark with blood.

The experience terrified Tekēhu, and he wished it would be the last time he had to see his captain hurt. The memories were stark in his mind and he remembered the aftermath quite clearly.

_Five lit torches illuminated the old, falling to ruins crypt. The orange lights created shadows on the walls, winding and twisting as they moved. _

_Their heavy breaths filled the hallways, distorted by the echoing sound of near-silent murmurs. _

_Tekēhu clutched Sol by the shoulder and lowered his head to block out the noise. "Captain, I'm frightened," he exclaimed, taking comfort in their proximity. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Sol’s torch appeared to beam stronger than the others._

_Ever obliging, Sol took Tekēhu hand in his, without even realizing it. The touch soothed and distracted Tekēhu. Not enough, however, to make him miss the grimace Aloth sent his way, nor the very obvious exasperation that made his eyes roll upwards. Though before he could retaliate, something soft and clammy brushed against his calf._

_"Something touched my leg!” It was too much. Too much. The stench, the low ceiling, the bodies and now this. “Captain, we should leave!"_

_Clenching Tekēhu’s hand tighter, Sol’s focus on the surrounding didn’t waver. His whispered words of reassurance managed to eventually drown out the sickly crunch of broken bones underneath their feet._

_As soon as they took a turn to the left, three more piles of remains appeared, and with them, four pairs of gleaming eyes, following them closely as they walked further into the cave. _

_The sight of four rotting monsters made them drop their torches in an instant. Judging by the number of bones, the famphyrs’ minds had decayed over the decades, and they succumbed, ultimately, to their endless hunger and devolved into nothing more than mindless monstrosities, mere shadows of beings they once were._

_The fight that followed was a lengthy and difficult one, nonetheless victorious, though it didn’t come without a price. _

_As soon as the last famphyr fell to the ground, so did Sol, his once white shirt now completely soaked with blood. _

_A stretch of luck let Rekke react fast enough to catch him before his head shattered on the floor. Exhausted, Rekke knelt down, one hand grasping his side, the other holding Sol up. _

_In a daze, Tekēhu’s body moved fast before his brain could figure out a course of action. He rushed through the haze caused by the shock of seeing Sol unconscious. The lasts scraps of power turned out to be enough to heal the worst of Sol’s injuries, most importantly the deep gash that split both his shirt and skin open._

_When the post-fight fright had coiled and the panic quietened, with his last ounce of strength, Rekke laid Sol near the dusty altar, in a patch of ground devoid of viscera._

_Out of the rest of them, Rekke was the most badly injured. Particularly his side where at least two ribs were if not broken then badly bruised._

_“Here.” With a bright blue bottle of luminous adra Aloth took from one of his pockets, he crouched near Rekke and passed the potion over to him. “It’s the last one, I am afraid,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully so that his friend could understand him. “I don’t have any scrolls left, either.”_

_Rekke blinked. “Um, ku?” he rasped weakly, staring at the potion quizzically, eyes glazed over and dim. “Ku?”_

_Aloth sighed softly, then shook the bottle until Rekke took it into his own hand. “Please, drink it,” he added, uncorking it himself, hoping to illustrate his point. _

_With a tight nod, Rekke brought the potion to his lips and drank, choking a bit at the taste. The empty bottle fell from his limp hand and rolled away, halted by one of the corpses._

_The potion worked its magic and seeing the relaxed expression on Rekke’s face, Aloth caught his eye and tapped his own side, parallel to where Rekke’s injury was. “Better?”_

_A small side-smile stretched Rekke’s scarred cheek. “Ah, ta! Ta.” Testing his body for pain and finding none, Rekke rested his back on the side of the altar._

_“That’s good,” Aloth’s smile flickered briefly before he fixed his gaze over the resting Watcher._

_“Ah, seems we’d be ‘here for a spell,” Serafen mussed, having already secured the perimeter while the rest of them took care of the wounded. He peered at the Watcher and nodded apparently satisfied at seeing him hale. _

_“You want to rest here?” Aloth’s eyes bulged out with disgust. “I... suppose we don’t have much choice in the matter.”_

_“Aye, it’d be safer to stay ‘ere now,” Serafen says, hands rested on his hips, regarding the dead famphyrs with a slight grimace. “Fuckin’ shithole as it is.”_

_“Ekera,” Tekēhu grunted, sliding closer to the Watcher. Gently, he wiped the trickle of drying blood off the side of Sol’s cheek. “Nobody in their right mind would venture here.”_

_“Nobody ‘cept us you mean,” Serafen smirked, ruffling through the many pockets of his vest. With a pleased hum, he fished out a half-empty bottle of rum. “Might want to unwind, eh, lad?” He suggested, not really needing to see Aloth’s tense posture and hunched shoulders to know that he was concerned over the Watcher._

_“I am not sure it is a good moment to relax, Serafen.” Aloth pursed his lips, fingers clenching over the corner of his tunic. “But be my guest.”_

_Serafen snorted. “Ain’t the first you saw cap hurt. Should be used to it. Be right as rain in no time besides. Always is, our captain.” Aloth’s lips thinned out in response and Serafen rolled his eyes to high heavens. “Good thing the farmer stayed on the ship. Be mad with worry, that one.” _

_“I am mad with worry!” Tekēhu announced clutching Sol’s wrist in both of his hands. “ I say I’ve never seen captain so pale. I hate to see him this way!“ _

_“Then maybe you should have just stayed on the ship with Edér?” Aloth snapped, nostrils flaring._

_It caught him off guard and Tehehu drew a quick breath before responding. “And leave our captain all by himself?”_

_Aloth scowled, pressing his lips into a thin, determined line. “He would be safer alone that having to look out for you at every turn while you make a nuisance of yourself.”_

_“Well, I don’t think captain minds me that much or he wouldn’t take me with him,” Tekēhu argued, brow shooting high in dismay._

_“Perhaps he--”_

_“Lads,” Serafen interrupted swiftly, raising his voice above the squabble. “You be acting like a pair of poxy cog-suckers. This shit stopped being amusing bout two months ago. Why not give it a rest.”_

_Aloth’s face settled into his usual, carefully placid expression. “I am just trying to look out for the Watcher, that’s all.”_

_“Aye, be telling yourself that, lad.” Serafen rubbed the back of his neck. “Be right nice if you’d thought bout it same way too.”_

_At once, Aloth blanched, swallowing hard. His mouth hung open inelegantly, words stuck in his throat._

_“What could you mean?” Tekēhu questioned, looking from Aloth to Serafen, then back again with his brows knitted high on his forehead._

_Aloth’s fury was a quiet one. His face remained passive even as he grid his teeth. “I fail to understand why it should be of any interest to you,” he leveled Tekēhu with a glare. To Serafen, he said, “Don't you have anything better to do, instead of poking around where you are clearly not wanted?” _

_“Ha! “Serafen threw his hands up. “I be needing to turn entirely blind to ignore how you’re boring a hole in cap's back with them eyes each time his back is turned.”_

_“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.”_

_“Be that as may, I be--”_

_A loud snore interrupted Serafen, and his mouth closed with a click. Three heads turned simultaneously to the side only to see Rekke, slumped over, snoozing._

_Serafen sighed. “Ah, damn. I be getting half-tired of it. Anyone up for a drink, ey?” Not waiting for an answer, he took a long, hard gulp out of his bottle, consequently settling their argument. _

_But his words clung viciously to Tekēhu, days and weeks after. The lack of answers bothered him that much more. _

_ _Huffing through his nose, Tekēhu shook his head against the unwanted memories and focused instead back on the Watcher, who stood side to side with Aloth, close enough for their knuckles to brush if one of them moved but an inch._ _

_ _A pretty picture - both of them attractive, well-matched in character and temper alike. Moving seamlessly together._ _

_ _Tekēhu had to admit, the pair looked remarkably good together and that notion brought in him a sensation he could not place, and an ugly king of emotion settled low in his stomach. _ _

_ _He did his best to swallow it down, leaving the confined room for the fresh air outside, where he waited, patiently, for the Watcher._ _


	3. Chapter 3

At dusk, the Watcher left Kahanga Palace with a heavy heart; tense and lost in thought. He refused to speak, offering only curt, one-word answers.

The pursuit of Eotas led them further into the unknown, all the way to Magran’s Teeth, where the Ashen Maw lied. And while traveling over the uncharted islands even though scary, excited Tekēhu greatly, it also troubled him. He hated to see his captain morose, knowing that there was nothing he could possibly do to ease his troubled mind.

For now, however, a vicious storm had them stranded for another overnight stay in Neketaka, much to everyone’s delight. Therefore it wasn’t a surprise that most of the crew scattered around the districts, holing up in taverns, three glasses in before their bottoms had even reached the seats.

All but three of them.

The Watcher refused every and all invitations, hoping perhaps to brood in solitude. But that didn’t mean he was left to his own devices. Quite the contrary.

Edér and Tekēhu particularly urged Sol to visit Ereti and play with her animals, in a vain hope of cheering their captain up. It did energize him a little and when the rain had subdued, he decided to follows Aloth’s advice and join him for a stroll.

“Well, I’ll be staying here, if you don’t mind,” Edér said, sparring the Watcher only half a glance, both hands tightly clasped around a small, white dog. A fuzzy pomeranian, with his little tongue lolling out. “Unless you’d rather I--”

“No. Stay,” Sol answered, clearly amused. He shrugged easily, exchanging a knowing glance with Aloth. “We’ll see you later.”

Edér grinned, wide and bright. “Sure thing.” He nodded his assent sharply, eyes straying to yet another pet, a piglet, insistent on climbing on his lap.

“We’ll need to send someone to fetch him tomorrow,” Aloth whispered privately, matching his steps to Sol’s. “Or else he’ll forget we had plans and Eothas--”

At the mention of the god, a strange tension thickened the air around them. Aloth’s eyes went round, his jaw fell shut. He wasn’t quick enough to bite down the word and it tumbled freely out of his mouth, leaving a tart taste of shame in its wake.

“Sol, I--”

“It’s alright,“ the Watcher replied instantly, voice tight. His face scrunched against his own words, in a grimace which intent was to reassure. He tried once more, with the same result.

“Captain,” Tekēhu tried weakly, but for all the immense knowledge of texts and poems that the guild had granted him, he could not find any right verse, any reassurance that would be fitting in the face Sol’s immense grief. He ached, from his own unexpected uselessness.

And thus. in silence, they reached the crossroad. The main street narrowed, splitting into three, separate alleys. The time to make a decision had inevitably come.

The road on the right lead down the marketplace, to a street lively and loud even amidst the storm. To the left, a shortcut to the temple emerged from between the tall blades of grass and quill leaves - possibly the worst place to be, for the Watcher, in a day such as this. The middle one would take them straight to the port. Not ideal either.

“Perhaps we should try the stalls next?” Aloth offered with a nervous smile, tugging at Sol’s elbow hesitantly, his long, pale fingers merely brushed the edge of the soft, light tunic.

“Ekera! Lets!” Tekēhu supported the idea with new-found excitement. “Captain, I saw a golden necklace with pearls as blue as your eyes,” he exclaimed, grabbing Sol by the arm and turning him around so that they faced each other. “Though not nearly half as pretty.”  
The startled laughter that ripped from Sol’s throat was like music to Tekēhu’s ears and he preened, biting his lower lip to, at least slightly, conceal his delight.

Sol plucked at the hem of his tunic, always in the same spot, near the bottom where the thread was fraying, the strings of cotton hanging low, waiting to be torn out. His cheeks darkened - a deep, lovely shade of violet - as they always did when Tekēhu managed to surprise him with a compliment.

“Did you really?” He asks indulgently, brushing the hair out of his face and behind one ear. “What were you looking for in a jewelry parlor?”

“Why, it’s a secret!” Tekēhu laughed, pulling Sol towards the market until he yielded to Tekēhu’s demands. “But you’ll be first to know when I find it,” he offered, sending Aloth a wink over Sol’s shoulder.

With moods happily lifted they continued along the road, their feet clanking on the wet cobblestones. Tekēhu embarked on keeping Sol’s spirits high, engaging him in small-talk that involved an occasional jab directed at their silent companion, which, for once, Aloth didn’t seem to mind.

The marketplace welcomed them with the strong smell of spices and the buzz of thousands tongues, the chatter audible from two blocks away, growing more and more insistent the closer they came. Intricate booths and stalls, decorated with colorful canopies made from the widest variety of embroidered materials, woven with silk and gold thread swayed in the wind, giving them a cover from the approaching downpour.

It pleased Tekēhu to notice that during the next quarter of an hour, Sol gradually relaxed as he browsed through the goods. A pair of jade figurines caught his eyes and he studied them with utmost interest. As for himself, Tekēhu was simply content to watch his Captain from afar, for the time being.

He was not the only one, however. Aloth as well stayed near the Watcher. Was it because he didn’t wish to lose him in the crowd or for a wholly different reason, Tekēhu couldn’t decide.

What Tekēhu did know, was that contrary to Aloth’s opinion of him and disregarding what he wanted to believe about Tekēhu, the shark wasn’t all that obvious. Aloth’s dislike for him must have been founded on something more than the clash of their characters. The Watcher denied courting Aloth, courting anyone for that matter, and Tekēhu believed him, had no reason not to.

But there was something strange about the way they seemed to circle around each other, not close, but never far away. Even now, engrossed in looking through the baubles, they stood so near-at-hand, communicating without speaking.

Sol’s eyes, distracted by a sight in the distance, glazed over. It was a worrying expression, similar to the one he wore when talking to the dead, stiff and unresponsive.

Frowning, Tekēhu took a step towards his Captain, when a hand on his forearm stopped him from moving any further.

“Long time no see, I say.” A pair of big, yellow eyes that blinked at Tekēhu seemed almost familiar, though he couldn’t match a name to the face.

“Ekera?” Tekēhu glanced back in the direction of the stall. To his relief, Sol was back to his usual, merry countenance, holding a pink, sparkling gem to his face, watching it gleam. “I’ve been busy since I joined the Watcher on his travels,” he turns to the aumaua and grins proudly. “Captain takes me to the best places, he does!”

“Oh,” the woman says, twirling a strand of dewy, black hair around her finder. “Are you planning on stopping by the Wild Mare later? You can tell me about all the new things you saw on your journey.”

“I don’t see why not!” And what a splendid idea it was. They could come to the tavern, after Sol was done with his shopping and Tekēhu would offer him a massage, yes, or a soak. That would make for a perfect gift. “I will--”

Tekēhu moved his head to the side, to call the Watcher over when he saw a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye. There was something else, besides the gem that Sol was holding in his hand, something small, gold and glistening.

“Tekēhu?”

The Watcher paid for it in gold, he always did, then he hid the gem in one of his many pockets. But the second trinket, he held up and handed over to Aloth. Tekēhu squinted his eyes, to try and see what the item was and when Aloth slid it on his finger, Tekēhu understood that it was a ring.

It was hardly unusual; Sol offered gifts to all his friends and crewmen - weapons and clothes, trinkets and ornaments. The very robe Tekēhu wore, exceptionally delicate, made entirely of spider silk, was one of such presents.

It was nothing, just a piece of jewelry but Aloth answering smile was blinding, the tips of his ears flushed red. He ducked his head and Sol laughed, a dear sound, like tinny bells.

“Tekēhu!”

The hand on his arm tugged him back and he had not realized that his body shifted without his permission. “Ekera, what is it?” He mumbled, strangely impatient, eyes never leaving the pair in front of him.

“I asked if--”

Aloth raised a hand. His arm brushed Sol’s, his fingers trailing higher to rest on his chest with a striking familiarity. There, like this, they looked nothing like a pair of friends they claimed to be.

Something new and foreign squeezed around Tekēhu’s heart, clawing at it viciously. He moved, leaving the woman in mid-word.

“Captain!” He yelled with a voice more unsteady that it had any right to be. “I am tired. We should go to the bathhouse.” With a vicious satisfaction, Tekēhu noted how the small, shy smile on Aloth’s face froze. The elf stiffened, jumping back as though burned.

Sol turned around, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He leaned closer and he didn’t resist when Tekēhu enveloped his hand, a little too tightly. Their fingers entwined easily, palms pressing together, molding and fitting like clay.

“Don’t you want to eat something first?” Sol asked with an amused, half-second quirk to his lips.

It was a proposition Tekēhu made earlier on, tempting the Watcher with the prospect of a delicious meal, fried shrimps and candied nuts. Though Sol didn’t seem very amenable to the idea, too sad or worried perhaps, to stomach anything.

“We could go to Wekeme after our soak,” Tekēhu offered, his good humor returning. “He always cooks crusted swordfish when it rains. I know it’s your favorite.”

“It is,” Sol blurted out, blinking. “You remembered?”

“Of course.” Tekēhu’s chest puffed with pride. Sol’s favored food, his preferred beverages. Every new fact and detail was a piece of treasure Tekēhu collected in the confinement of his mind, saving it for later. “Well,” he asked, rubbing his thumb over Sol’s knuckles, pulling him towards himself. “Are you ready to go?”

Sol chanced a look at the woman who stood in the same spot Tekēhu had left her in. Though it seemed the waiting made her bored because she was already engaged in a chat with somebody else. Still, Sol considered Tekēhu for a moment before asking, “don’t you want to finish your...conversation?”

“Hmm? Ah, no.” Tekēhu waved a hand dismissively. “It was just a patron from the Wild Mare.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Sol agreed, jerking his head in the direction of the street. “Then lead the way.”

Satisfied, Tekēhu turned his head to address Aloth. “And you,” he asked and that meager display of civility was worth the way Sol’s whole face lighted up, “are joining us, of course?”

“Oh, I--” Aloth stumbled over his words, honestly taken aback by the inclusion. He shifted on his feet, pondering over the question, searching for an ulterior motive. Whatever his choice was, one furtive glance at the joined hands made him refuse. “I, well, thank you, Tekēhu, but I need to stop by the Dark Cupboard to search for... more healing scrolls.”

It was a terrible lie and even Tekēhu winced listening to the explanation. But he wasn’t in a mood to pry. “Ekera,” Tekēhu said slowly and feeling no great loss shrugged. “If you are sure.”

After Aloth confirmed that he was, in fact, sure, he offered to accompany them to the district. It was meet with mutual consensus and without a moment of delay, they squeezed themselves through the crowd, eager to be gone.

Tekēhu kept a hold of the Watcher’s hand the whole way. Their steps slowed, synchronized, and together, the three of them walked until they emerged onto the tall bridge verging on Periki’s Overlook, where they separated. Then, and no sooner, the rain started for the umpteenth time that day, even more ferocious and rapid than before, soaking their garments thoroughly in the few minutes it took them to run towards the Luminous Bathhouse.

“Ugh,” Tekēhu gasped, wrenching the door open and all but dragging Sol inside in his haste. “My poor robe.”

“Ah.” Sol wiped the droplets out of his face with the outer side of his hand. The stray beads clung to his eyelashes. When he blinked, one of them fell down his cheek, over his lips, staying there, in the corner of his mouth, absorbing all of Tekēhu’s attention. “Don’t worry,” Sol said, and Tekēhu saw him speak the words more than he heard them. “I’ll get you something prettier.”

It was hard, to tear his eyes away, but Tekēhu did so, albeit with great unwillingness. Sol’s eyes twinkled mischievously, half-hidden beneath his hair that was pressed to his wet skin like ribbons of blue. His white tunic became almost see-through, from all the moisture, the fastening on the neckline untied, revealing pale, swirly markings. Standing there, dripping on the marble tiles, he was the most beautiful sight Tekēhu remembered seeing in his entire life.

Tekēhu gulped, throat suddenly dry. “T-thank you, captain,” he stuttered, floored into the spot.

Sol looked at him askew. “You must be freezing,” he murmured, watching the way Tekēhu’s scales rose on his skin, as goosebumps would. “Wait there, I’ll get an attendant.” He twirled so fast, Tekēhu had no other choice but to watch him disappear upstairs.

The bathhouse did not change at all, in the months Tekēhu spent away. Nor did the water sculptures, most of the clients and servants. The humidity and steam cloaked around him, seeping through his robe and warming him up. Catching his breath, he glanced down and folded his hands, pressing his knuckles anxiously.

His Captain was very attentive. Though his favor was a thing shared equally between his friends, crewmen and all the other unfortunate kith that needed his help. He would give and give until there was nothing of him left. Tekēhu felt like he should have been glad for the attention, and he was.

But he wanted, and wanted, and wanted, always more. Always something he couldn’t have. He always craved the feeling of want, of love, no matter how temporary, in hands of someone, anyone. Hands he wished would stay but never did. Now it wasn’t that simple. He wanted the touch, yes. But his want could not be subdued by any pair of hands. He still wanted love but from a very particular person. And for some reason it made him suffer both less and more than he did before.

“Tekēhu? Are you well?” Sol brought Tekēhu back from his thought with a gentle hand on his forearm.

“Yes?”

Tekēhu was so distracted he didn’t catch when Sol returned with the attendant. He didn’t hear the approaching footsteps, didn’t see when Sol started undressing.

The attendant held his hands up to take his clothes. She put them in her basket and waited for Tekēhu to start disrobing as well, so she could carry the clothes to the washroom and dry them. Her eyes strayed to the Watcher, his bare form, then back to her feet.

Tekēhu couldn’t blame her. His captain cut a fine figure, dressed in nothing but his skin. The pale markings twirling down his neck, his torso and lower still, fully uncovered, at last, glistening from the heat.

“You looked lost in thought,” Sol explained while Tekēhu undressed.

“I was. I just--” Tekēhu gulped down the words, unsure of himself. “I couldn’t wait to get into the water,” he deflected, sending Sol a smile he hoped looked somewhat charming.

The Watcher wasn’t fooled, but he was nothing if not discreet. “Well, you don’t have to wait now,” he said, slipping a couple of baby pearls into the woman’s hand. She gave them a bow, then hurried along to take care of her duties.

Watcher slipped into the water with a groan, closing his eyes. “Reminds me of hot springs back home,” he confessed, moaning with pleasure.

Tekēhu smiled, shifting closer, unable to tear his eyes off the display. “The Living Lands?”

“Indeed.” Sol smiled pleased, no longer surprised that Tekēhu recalled that detail. He moved his head to the side, exposing his neck. The motion made his hair slap his face like a fistful of worms. He spat the strands out of his mouth with a grimace.

Tekēhu chuckled. “It certainly grew long. It suits you, I say.” A few loose strands of hair clung to Sol’s wet skin and Tekēhu’s hand raised unconsciously to brush them away.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Sol huffs, rubbing a lock between his fingers. “But Gods, it’s annoying. I need to chop it off.”

“I could braid it for you, captain?” Tekēhu proposed. Sure of his welcome, he threaded the water to stand in front of the Watcher.

“If you’d like.” As suspected, Sol agreed, turning to the left, to make space for the shark to slide behind him.

“I would,” Tekēhu murmured, once his hands were buried in Sol’s hair. He took his time, brushing it gently, then braided it tightly, so that the braid wouldn’t untie itself fully without a cord or a ribbon to secure it.

The Watcher didn’t seem to mind the attention, easily-bored as he was. He did not move, even after the finished braid rested over his arm, reaching well past his collarbones. Tekēhu’s fingers moved down Sol’s neck and the curve of his arms, barely touching his skin, hesitant.

"You can touch,” Watcher said when Tekēhu stopped his ministrations. “You can. I want you to."

Tekēhu nodded, following the edges of Sol’s markings with his fingertips, feeling the muscles relax, bit by bit. But it was not enough, not when the space that divided them was not wider than a breath. If Tekēhu wished to, he could move but an inch, to lick the water pooling on Sol’s neck, taste the sweetness of his skin.

His earlier thoughts returned to him uninvited. He fought them, in vain. And a sudden flare of fear overtook him.

Tekēhu was torn, between the yearning of his heart and the cautioning his mind. A part of him wanted, desperately, to give himself to the Watcher, to take more of him, grab him by fistfuls and keep him. He was certain like never before that the Watcher would not send him away. But the possible refusal didn’t scare him half as much as a consent did. Because what is the Watcher said yes? Yes for the sex and no for everything else? What if it ended up the same way it always did, with Tekēhu hurt and alone?

No, he could not bear it, not this time. But the last talk he had with Sol, it seemed the Watcher understood him, saw through him, down to the darkest, ugliest parts of. And didn’t run, didn’t leave. He was there, resting against Tekēhu, humming under his breath.

So Tekēhu decided, hand splayed over Sol’s back. He would bare himself, he would tell Sol everything that there was to know, once they returned from Magran’s Teeth, once they confronted the God.

And come what may, Tekēhu couldn’t stand to wait any longer.


	4. Chapter 4

The Watcher felt himself being moved; torn between the sensations of his soul and his body, tethered by the rough adra under and all around him and the unbearable heat. As soon as Eothas’ hand enveloped him protectively, shielding him from magma, it all came rushing back; things Sol didn’t know were missing until he felt them settle back within him, as if they never left. His soul, together at last, tighter, closer. It hurt, the kind of pain he welcomed with both of his arms wide open.

_Yes_, he thought, once the ground rearranged itself beneath his feet. Not quite agony, but far from painless either. He could still feel a small piece of him with Eothas, like an aforethought, far in the back of his mind.

He shivered violently, legs trembling and he nearly lost his balance. Both of his hands shot up to hold him steady. He gripped the railing for dear life, the smooth wood disturbingly warm and clammy under his fingers. Behind the haze which clouded his mind, he saw only Eothas. The giant statue slowly became smaller and smaller, standing still amidst the waves as the ship sailed away.

A pair of arms caught Sol by the waist, the gesture achingly familiar and he felt himself relax, allowing his eyes to slide close. A voice whispered to him, high and concerned and he coughed, rasping out, “what?” Tekēhu’s skin smelled like ink and salt but also like iron and smoke. His chest rumbled when he repeated, a melodic sound, a world that held no meaning to the Watcher but made his insides tighten all the same. “What was that?”

“_My little moon_.” Tekēhu slipped back into Aedyran with ease, his smile equally warm and worried, though his lips tightened as if he was holding back a sob. “Ekera, you scared me.”

“It’s alright,” Sol rasped, voice rough and dry, trying to reassure and failing. He let Tekēhu hold him close, whisper into his hair until his shoulders lost all the pent-up tension and his back relaxed.

When they looked at each other again, Tekēhu’s face was wet and glistening and Sol moved, out of his arms, until he was sitting half on the shark’s lap, perched high enough he could see him clearly. “I thought you--” Tekēhu winced, as though unable to finish, the words burning in his throat, clawing, choking.

Watcher shook his head, smiling gently. “I am not gone,” he murmured, bringing his head closer until their lips were just a breath away. He traced the specks of silver under Tekēhu’s eyes, fingertips tingling against the wetness. “I am whole.”

He couldn’t say for certain who moved first, but the very next thing he felt was warm hands on his jaw, just holding, and Tekēhu gasped, planting a shaky kiss on Sol’s forehead, keeping himself close through the sobs that shook his body.

“It’s alright,” Sol assured again, feeling the tears he could no longer hold back stream down his cheeks. He didn’t expect to be shaken so badly, so raw. “It’s going to be alright,” he amended and for the first time since his keep collapsed on top of his head, he thought it might be true.

They stood up eventually, still wrapped up in each other and Tekēhu lead them a couple of steps to the bow, away from the rest of their friends who were slowly returning to the lower deck, respectfully keeping their distance.

“We need to set the course for Neketaka,” Sol decided, shifting away to break their embrace.

“A moment,” Tekēhu pleaded, holding Sol’s hand in both of his and Sol relented, resting his back against the railing and burying himself deeper into Tekēhu’s arms, fitting his cheek against the crook of Tekēhu’s shoulder. The sea was calm for once, and Sol wondered briefly, if it meant Ondra’s approval, or if he should prepare himself for her wrath.

“I am scared,” Tekēhu said, his voice strangely somber. “I am scared. I never felt like this before. Ekera, I am not sure--”

Tekēhu trembled. From the harsh wind he was shielding Sol against. Or something different, something Sol wasn’t awake enough to decipher. But he wondered then, about his choices, ones that led him straight into Tekēhu’s waiting arms. And he chuckled weakly, remembering his own thoughts. _I will not mourn him, when he leaves_. What a preposterous idea.

_Of course I will mourn_, he chided himself, closing his eyes, letting the darkness pull him in. _When he will inevitably let go of me_.

“Sol?”

A hand rested on his head, gentle, always gentle and he felt like weeping when the Void claimed his mind, but he did not fight it. Not this time.

XXX

Amongst the tumult and uproar of the Kahanga Palace, the Watcher came back to himself, head perched on something soft, smelling like the ocean. Noticing his awakening, the hands that were until now resting surely on his shoulders helped him up to his feet. 

“Captain?” Tekēhu whispered, tightening his hold on Sol’s arm for a moment before he saw the Watcher nod, coming back to himself.

Hearing Onekaza’s voice inside his head, Sol turned away from Tekēhu’s hold - a mere second before the crowd’s attention focused on him and he bowed his head slightly, returning the Queen’s gaze. As soon as he started speaking, the room fell silent. His voice echoed through the hall, steady and convinced. He could not allow himself to show his true feelings for all to see. The terror and self-doubt. The despair.

“What do you think?” Edér asked as soon as the audience was over, tugging Sol away from the throne room, waiting for the palace to become more secluded. “Everyone seem to want you now. Not that they didn’t earlier,” he added with a small grin which did not hide his worry well.

“It’s not about me, I don’t think. They all want to reach-- to claim Ukaizo, and they think I am the one who could make it true.”

“Except you can,” Edér mumbled trough the lip of his pipe, breathing out the smoke. “They know it, the gods know it. Hel, Eothas does too.”

“It doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t. Still, it’s the matter of choosing who are you willing to support. You know, I don’t envy you.”

Sol smiled, half-halfheartedly, watching the Queen leave the throne room, casting the last silent glance in his direction. He did not need to say anything, she knew his decision even before he did.

“_You have my thanks, Watcher_,” she said to him, in the privacy of his mind, and he could see the hope glistening in her deep eyes. “_Whenever you’re ready_.”

_If you had to wait until I am ready_, he thought to himself, watching her go. _You would have waited for eternity_. He could already feel the blood on his hands, the sickening stench of death clinging to his clothes, mixing with the air in his lungs until there was nothing but black bile running through his veins.

“Captain?” Tekēhu’s voice brought him back and Sol turned towards his companion, noticing the sharp grin Edér sent his way as he moved away from them, giving them space.

“Yes? Is everything alright?”

Tekēhu huffed a deep breath, as though he couldn’t decide if the Watcher’s disregard of his own health and safety was more irritating or endearing. “You worried me,” he admitted with an uneasy smile. “Sleeping for so long.” He raised his palm, gently touching the dark shadows under Sol’s lower eyelid with the tips of his fingers. “But you didn’t rest well, I say.”

The abrupt briefing Berath summoned Sol to, while short, felt like years, the darkness that followed, choking, dense, stretched into eons. When he woke, the exhaustion seemed unbearable. Yes, his body slept, but he didn’t rest.

Tekēhu looked worried enough as it was, so Sol did what he was best at; he swallowed down the truth, he smiled and lied. “No, but I feel much better now.” Tekēhu’s head fell a little, and though he started to nod, his eyes squinted suddenly, narrowing into slits. Sol’s lies must’ve had gotten lousy indeed. He interrupted quickly, before Tekēhu could get a single word out. “You said you wanted to talk? Is that about Ukazio?”

Tekēhu shook his head sharply, thrown off at the sudden change of subject. Staring at his hands, he bit his lower lip, brow furrowed in thought. Then, he smiled again, a wide, practiced smile that didn’t match his eyes. It seemed that evading the hard truth wasn’t solely the Watcher’s forte anymore. “I know you’re busy right now, captain. But why don’t we make use of the sun while it shines? You deserve a break once in a while, ekera, you do.”

He wasn’t exactly begging, but his tone sounded pleading enough that Sol didn’t have to give it a second thought before agreeing. “Do you have something specific in mind?” He asked, watching with a deep pleasure how Tekēhu’s smile stretched wider, illuminating his face. It wasn’t hard to give in when Tekēhu asked him so sweetly. “A visit to the bathhouse, I suppose?”

Tekēhu didn’t answer outright. He took a hold of Sol’s hand, lacing their fingers together, sure of his welcome. “You’ll see.” His enthusiasm was contagious and in no time, Sol found himself sharing it.

Tekēhu led him out of the rich and beautiful cobbled street of Serpent’s Crown through the narrow passages, down to Periki’s Overlook. It was early enough that the district appeared strangely empty, the usually busy streets barren and quiet. The day was dawning, the few people they walked by seemed engrossed in their tasks. 

To Sol’s immense surprise, they passed the tall building of the bathhouse without a glance in its direction. And so he shot Tekēhu a quick glance, though before he could get an answer to the unsaid question, mouth-watering smell of grilled fish and strong spices permeated the air. A food stall, then. How unexpected.

“Wait here.” Tekēhu squeezed Sol’s hand, letting go of it reluctantly. He seemed to wait for some sort of reaction, or perhaps permission, only moving when Sol nodded his head in acknowledgment. He trotted to the cart, turning back once more, as though to make sure the Watcher didn’t vanish into the thin air.

Sol melted, in the face of Tekēhu’s plain eagerness, and the almost childish in nature joviality that drew the Watcher to him in the first place. He didn’t notice when his arms relaxed, or when the constant, clutching worry that had a hold on him subdued. Before long, he was leaning against a pillar, simply watching Tekēhu as he talked animatedly with Wekeme. The shark’s mouth moved as he spoke, the words lost to Sol both due to the change of language and the mild distance.

With his hands busy with preparing the food, the old cook halted at the sound of something Sol couldn’t hear from where he stood. Whatever it was, it made the aumaua look over Tekēhu’s arm and straight at Sol, his big, green eyes intent and inquisitive. His face gentled momentarily, then the wrinkles around him mouth deepened as he chuckled. His teasing brought a deep flush to Tekēhu’s face and his laugh grew louder. 

Tekēhu took the wrapped in a palm leaf package with a hint of unusual bashfulness, sliding a couple of pearls on the counter while Wekeme wasn’t looking. With the bundle secured under one arm, he returned, face still a little too blue around the cheeks, flustered. He cleared his throat, but his grin was as bright as ever. Readily, Sol slid his fingers into the waiting hand, feeling it relax. 

Tekēhu exhaled. “When I first came to live in Neketaka,” he said, guiding them around the corner, down the path to the viewing terrace. “I used to sneak out the guild in the morning hours when everyone but Mairu was still asleep.” His expression soured momentarily at the memory of his late guildmaster. 

Sol brushed a knuckle against Tekēhu’s hand, his skin catching on the rough edges of the warm, dry scales. 

Tekēhu smiled, and after a moment of silence, he continued. “I was taken by the smell of food, coming from Wekeme’s stall,” he sounded wistful, running his eyes over the uneven patches of grass. “I would come here, to watch the sea. It was worth waking up so early,” he grinned, pulling Sol to seat beside him, once they reached to the farthest end. “Not a lot of things are.” 

“No,” Sol gave a chuckle of his own. “I suppose not.” The red, sun-bleached blanket was rougher to the touch than he expected it to be, made of dyed straw instead of cotton as he had initially assumed.

While Tekēhu unwrapped their meal, the Watcher stared at the waves, over the small balustrade at the edge of the cliff. In the silence of a sleeping city, interrupted only by the steady hum of water coming from the nearby Guild, he wished - and he had sworn to himself he would stop with this foolishness - that the moment could last forever. That they could stay, like this, just the two of them.

“What about you, captain?” Tekēhu asked, taking out two, giant razor skewers, still hot and steaming and handing one to Sol. “Any stories you wish to share? Ekera, I would love to know.”

The Watcher held the fish by the wooden stick it was impaled on, breaking off a piece of the meat and bringing a large chunk of it to his lips, to give himself a moment of delay. There wasn’t an easy way he could spin the story to not break the light mood. And he didn’t want to lie. Not to Tekēhu. “Oh,” he said, licking the spices off his lips. “Nothing really interesting, I am afraid.” 

Tekēhu followed the movement of Sol’s tongue with his eyes, cataloging the shape of his mouth. “Ekera? I find it hard to believe. Everything about you is most captivating and there is more still that I wish to learn.”

It surprised Sol, how could it not? It was rare for someone to be interested in Sol as a... well, as a person, not a Godlike, not a Watcher, or the Lord of Caed Nua. Rarer still, he had the occasion to tell the truth about his life. It didn’t sell well, the truth. Never something people wanted to hear, so he made a new story, for every person, always exactly what they wanted to hear.

“I was born in the Living Lands,” Sol said, keeping his voice mild. “Ah, but you know that already.” He was terrible at this. Tekēhu wanted the truth. And that should be easier. It wasn’t. “Look,” he glanced at Tekēhu, gathering all the strength he had in him. “I am not a good person.”

Teke’s eyes went round like Vallian obles before he did the last thing Sol expected him to. He burst out laughing. “You jest,” he gasped between one breath and another. “You are the nicest, the sweetest--.”

A terrible exaggeration. “I used to get on living by cheating people out of their coin, down to the last copper sometimes.” 

“Ekera, that sounds exciting!’ 

Sol gaped inelegantly, blinking back at Tekēhu as if his tentacles had suddenly sprouted eyes. “That’s not a reaction I usually get.”

Tekēhu chuckled, taking a bite of the fish. He blew on it before placing it on his tongue. “A couple of months ago, when I was showing Edér the anemone garden,” he responded, after chewing thoroughly, “he told me to be careful, to not get my heart broken. He said it was your specialty.”

It was. It used to be. “Oh, Edér.”

Tekēhu smiled just slightly and craned his neck, staring intently. “I know that he was only half-joking.”

“I don’t have a lot of memories of my childhood that are worth telling,” Sol said, answering the first question, the one he wanted to omit. “I grew up in a small colony. We... It was different,” he pointed at the upside-down moon on his forehead. “It was a few years before I settled in a port-city. I tried to find an honest job, in the tavern. It didn’t pay well, my boss was a scum but there were always sailors around or travelers interested in spending a good coin for a night with a moon godlike. Apparently, we bring luck,” he spat it out far harsher than he meant to, self-deprecating.

Tekēhu’s face split, between anger on Sol’s behalf and hurt, as if he couldn’t understand. He furrows his brow, drawing a sharp breath through his nose.

They were brought up so differently. Sol didn’t want Tekēhu to see, that dirty and dark part of him. But he knew he would, one day.

“I met a sailor here,” Sol began anew when he couldn’t stand the sorrow in Tekēhu’s eyes, as the pity in them became too heavy. “Her ship was completely ruined and her crew had barely got alive. She had a room, on the second floor of the tavern. She had stayed there for a year.” What an irony.

Sol looked at the crashing waves below. Briefly, he wondered, if Tekēhu expected a story, not unlike one of his own. A tale of mismatched lovers, quick trysts and the lack of affection. It was, in a way.

“She was everything I thought I wanted and she promised to take me with her, to the sea.” He grimaced at the memory of his youthful naïveté. “She just forgot to mention _where_ she was going to take me.”

“No.” The gasp that broke from Tekēhu’s throat was small, painful. He stared at Sol, lost for words. Face speaking volumes.

“Yes. And for a crate of Blacsonn.” Selling a Godlikes to the slavers for a handful of drugs. It was a common practice, something Sol didn't know about, as well-learned as he'd liked to think of himself. “Good thing she didn’t know I was a cipher, and a practiced one at that. I made her sailors butcher each other off, and then I did the same thing with her. I sold her ship and for the copper I got, I bought myself a passage out of the Lands. I thought I’d find my luck in the Gilded Vale.”

_And I swore I’d never fall in love again,_ he mussed, bitterly, thinking of Aloth, the long, sleepless nights around the fire, his cold hand in his. He swore and swore again, and in those five, lonely years he decided he would never give his heart away and then, to make a fool of himself again, he met Tekēhu. Who, as he thought, was just the right amount of friendly and meaningless to be perfectly safe. 

He was wrong, on both accounts. Tekēhu didn’t ask for his heart, didn’t ask for a thing, he just took it, arduously so.  
But what the shark didn’t know, what he wasn’t aware of, was how loudly his minds screamed, how easily Sol could read the feelings in his eyes. He didn’t need his mother's confirmation to know them for what they were.

Tekēhu looked mightily crestfallen, shoulders bowing inward. “I say that I am glad for one thing.” He whispered, leaning closer, pressing their arms together, skin to scales. “That you could trade her ship and come here.” _To me_, he finished, in his thoughts.

“So am I,” Sol muttered, nibbling at his fish. “So am I.”

They finished eating in silence, sitting next to each other until the sun settled high on the sky, bright and scorching, and the streets filled with the booming voices and song.

“Darling, I--” The endearment seemed to blurt out Tekēhu’s mouth by accident. His hand shot up to his lips, as if trying to catch the word and put it back inside.

But Sol was used to it by now, he heard it in Tekēhu’s head countless times. He didn’t even notice that it was spoken out loud. “Yes?”

“I--” The lack of negative reaction, or any reaction, really, appeared to confuse Tekēhu, strip him of the bravery he had in him but a moment ago. “Later,” he decided. “After your talk with Onekaza. I will tell you then.”

Sol took a single, deep breath. “Alight.” He was patient. He had waited this long. “Whenever you’re ready.”


End file.
